Amulet
by Suspicious Popsicle
Summary: Sitting on Flynn's palm, the little box was deceptively light. Its true weight was invested in the meaning of its contents. It held a promise, of sorts, a wish, a symbol of connection forged at Flynn's request. He closed his fingers over the box, and wondered what Yuri would think, what he would think of the other half paired to it. (Fluri one shot)
A/N: Originally written a while back for a prompt from Suguelya on tumblr. =)

Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from _Tales of Vesperia_ and do not belong to me.

* * *

Flynn closed the lid carefully on the tiny box, set it down on his desk, and considered it, silently. It had come out better than he'd hoped, and he was glad he'd commissioned it, though still a little uncertain of how Yuri would receive it. He had specifically requested that Yuri be in Zaphias over the next few days. He'd even considered offering to pay Brave Vesperia for the time lost where Yuri wouldn't be able to take on jobs. In the end he hadn't done so, even though he knew it was selfish to demand his friend's time for personal reasons. Thankfully, Yuri had agreed to come readily enough, though Flynn had grown increasingly anxious as the days before his arrival flew past with no sign of him and no word. He hoped Yuri hadn't forgotten.

The little velvet box looked dusty where it caught the light, and Flynn brushed at it, distracted. He wondered if Yuri would recognize the significance of the date, and thought perhaps not. To him, it wouldn't have seemed an event worth marking, caught as it had been amidst so much else that had been going on. For Flynn, the anniversary held an undeniable importance. Tomorrow, it would be one year to the day from when Yuri had returned to him after disappearing at Zaude. When the world had been crumbling around him and he'd been fighting as much to keep himself going as to protect people, that first sight of Yuri at Aurnion had been burned into Flynn's mind. He had never been so happy to see someone in his entire life. He could still remember the wave of relief that had nearly brought him to his knees, and the well-spring of joy that had energized him and allowed him to gather his strength for the ongoing fight. For the first time in far too long, the sword he bore to protect and serve hadn't felt like a burden.

Sitting on his palm, the little box was deceptively light. Its true weight was invested in the meaning of its contents. It held a promise, of sorts, a wish, a symbol of connection forged at Flynn's request. He closed his fingers over the box, and wondered what Yuri would think, what he would think of the other half paired to it. Raising a hand, Flynn felt for the chain hung around his neck, and let his fingers follow it until they rested over the golden ring hidden beneath his shirt. Soon enough, he would find out if Yuri appreciated the gesture, or thought him a fool. Either way, it felt right to Flynn, and he patted the box as he tucked it safely into his pocket.

* * *

Midnight arrived as he worked and waited for Yuri. As the clock struck the hour, Flynn leaned back in his seat and stretched. His neck had gone stiff, and the room was darker than he'd realized beyond the amber glow of his desk lamp. A starless night hung outside his window and, even as he stared sleepily at the sky, a familiar shadow darkened the glass. The window swung open to admit the scent of coming rain and Flynn rose to welcome Yuri inside as the twelfth chime faded into silence.

"You're right on time, for once," he joked.

Setting his sword aside, Yuri ran a hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers caught at tangles. He stretched, relaxing bit by bit as Flynn shut out the damp, chilly breeze that had followed him in.

"I didn't feel like camping in a storm."

"How sensible of you." He smiled as Yuri made himself at home, flopping down onto the couch and draping his arms along the back of it. "So, instead of going to your own room, you decided to come break into mine in the middle of the night?"

Yuri smirked back. "I could see the lamplight, smart guy. Figured you were either still working...or that you'd left a candle for me."

His smile had softened for those last words, and Flynn felt warmth fill his chest in response. He hurried forward, steps a little too rushed, and sank down next to Yuri on the couch. His touch was hesitant, careful, as he stroked Yuri's cheek and pushed back the cold fall of his hair. This was still somewhat new between them, this expression of amorous feeling. Flynn had known for some time, but he'd only confessed before Yuri had left for Tarqaron. Or, more properly, he'd only confessed after Zaude. For all the heartache the loss there had caused him, he had been given back a chance for happiness that he had resolved not to squander.

There was laughter in Yuri's smile, but whether it was mocking or innocent mirth, Flynn didn't care. The important thing was that Yuri _could_ smile, that he was alive and at Flynn's side. And whether that gleeful smile had spread across Yuri's face _for_ Flynn or _at_ him, it didn't make a bit of difference as it was lost in a kiss.

One of Yuri's arms settled around Flynn's shoulders, holding him close. Tentatively, Yuri's fingertips brushed his cheek, so strangely gentle that Flynn pressed a hand over his, held Yuri's palm flush against his skin. The gesture reassured both of them, and they leaned into each other, falling from the slumbering world into the depths of the kiss.

When they broke apart, Yuri was flushed and panting. He stared as if entranced, his dark eyes turning the lamplight into reflected stars. Dizzy, Flynn couldn't even consider looking away. He felt feverish and starved for one more taste of Yuri. Pressing back in, he remembered that first night in flickers of memory sparked by touch.

It had been that day in Aurnion, the day they'd fought and Yuri had finally beaten him, and he'd been so _proud_ of him—

Fingers carded through Flynn's hair. Yuri's blastia jostled against his ear.

He had brought Yuri back to the room he'd been staying in. He remembered Yuri's face when he'd confessed his feelings, the surprise that had melted away into—

Yuri made a wordless, throaty demand for more. He pivoted on the couch, slipping one leg over Flynn's lap to straddle him.

They'd slept in the same bed that night, innocently and not for the first time, but the kisses had been a first. The sweaty palms and hammering heart that had kept Flynn up long after Yuri had drifted off had been new. He remembered holding Yuri close—

Beneath his hands, Yuri's body held all the warmth of high summer. Flynn trailed kisses down his neck, nuzzling aside the collar of his shirt.

—remembered running hands over his arms and back, touching his face, reassuring himself that Yuri had truly returned to him—

Settling his weight, Yuri rocked against him, groaning a bit as they pressed together. Flynn sank against the couch and clutched at him as Yuri's hands slipped beneath his shirt.

—remembered letting the steady beat of Yuri's heart, his even breathing, lull him to sleep.

Flynn's pulse was hammering in his ears. Gasping, Yuri ground into him and caught him up in another kiss, a messy, needy, desperate fumbling of tongues. His hands wandered up Flynn's stomach, up his chest, leaping like flames until they climbed high enough to brush against the ring Flynn wore beneath his shirt and then Yuri was suddenly pulling back, startled and staring as Flynn gasped for air and grasped for him and wondered why they had suddenly stopped.

"You've got a..." Yuri gestured at his own throat, and Flynn's hand moved slowly to the chain he wore.

"Ordered it weeks ago. I wanted it to be ready."

He fumbled for the box in his pocket. The fog was falling away from the world. The air of his quarters seemed cold in his lungs. He'd planned for how he would present his gift to Yuri, but it didn't seem to matter so much just then.

Yuri waited quietly until Flynn offered up the box. It seemed like such a small thing even as the shadowed velvet sucked in the light. His hand shook as Yuri slowly took it and opened the lid.

A pendant sat inside, worked in silver, set with a small, brilliant blue sapphire. It had been made in the image of the converted blastia that Flynn still wore on his uniform. As Yuri lifted it free of the box by its chain, the minute inscription on the back—an old prayer for protection—sparkled in the dim light. Yuri's eyes flickered from the pendant to Flynn.

"A reminder that, no matter where you are, I'm with you."

A grin broke across his face like the dawn, and he leaned forward, bumping their foreheads together.

"As if I needed a reminder."

Tangled around Yuri's fingers, the chain warmed quickly against Flynn's skin as their world dwindled once more to the sweetness of a kiss.

* * *

Flynn woke beside Yuri the next morning, neither of them wearing a stitch save the sheets that covered them. Around Yuri's neck was a silver chain bearing a silver pendant, and around Flynn's, a golden chain with a miniature of Yuri's own blastia.

Propping himself up on one elbow, Yuri smiled down at him playfully. He was toying with the pendant he wore, but let it fall to bounce against his chest.

"Does yours have an inscription?"

Stretching beneath the sheet, Flynn took hold of a lock of Yuri's hair and drew him down into a soft kiss.

"Didn't seem quite right to call down a blessing upon myself."

"Thought so. Allow me."

Lifting the miniature blastia, Yuri slipped it neatly onto his ring finger and brought it to his lips for a kiss.


End file.
